


Hate The Sin, Not The Sinner

by rightonthelimit



Series: Kurt/Blaine Drabble Collection [24]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, knight!Blaine, knight!Kurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-28
Updated: 2012-11-28
Packaged: 2017-11-19 19:08:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/576656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rightonthelimit/pseuds/rightonthelimit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine is a brave knight who meets rookie Kurt, who probably won't survive the upcoming battle without Blaine's help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hate The Sin, Not The Sinner

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by anonymous on Tumblr :)

**A/N: Please do not repost, recreate or translate.**

**Hate The Sin Not The Sinner**

Blaine’s first thought when he saw Kurt Hummel swinging his sword awkwardly at his wooden target?

Disaster.

This boy wouldn’t stand a chance on the battlefield, not if he wouldn’t drastically change his posture and learn how to properly hold a sword. He was gorgeous but a pretty face wouldn’t keep their enemies from killing Kurt ruthlessly, if anything, he would only appear to be an easier target to them with the way he looked like he was more fit to be part of the royal family rather than being the peasant he was.

Blaine was quick to intervene when the boy almost gripped his sword by its blade, fearing he’d have to witness him losing a couple of fingers otherwise, reveling in the charming smile of gratitude he received. The boy looked genuinely relieved for a break.

He would definitely need to learn how to toughen up, yet Blaine had to hand it to him – the way his eyes glimmered when they caught in the light was definitely disarming.

‘Hey,’ the teen said in a surprisingly high voice that made Blaine’s stomach feel funny. The adolescent blinked a couple of times at him, his nose scrunching up adorably as if he was trying to figure something out. ‘Wait, aren’t you…?’

‘My name is sir Blaine,’ Blaine stated, putting on his most charming smile (ridiculous, but he wanted to  _impress_ this boy) and shaking his hand. There was this odd sense of tenderness that overcame him when he regarded this boy. Blaine was a busy man- he didn’t have time for newbies. He had an army to get prepared for war, after all.

But the thought of this boy getting himself killed or quite possibly even worse,  _tortured,_ was unbearable. Blaine had heard men talk in camps – talk about pretty boys like this one. And even if Blaine fought to keep his men fair, he knew that at the end of the day, they were all simple men with simple desires.

Boys like this were just another hole to fuck, if they weren’t careful.

‘Oh, wow – it  _is_ you! My name is Kurt Hummel. I don’t have a fancy title, though.’ Kurt politely bowed and Blaine chuckled. Such a common name for a highly uncommon boy.

He liked Kurt already.

‘Well, Kurt-without-a-title-Hummel, have you ever actually ever  _used_ a sword?’

Kurt winced and it was all Blaine needed to know. He fought to keep the smile off his face. Kurt was just so endearing.

‘That obvious, huh?’ Kurt asked him with a flush that wasn’t entirely caused by extortion. Blaine hummed and took Kurt’s sword, studying it. It was quite a handsome sword – practically untouched, not yet scratched up and shiny. The jewels on the handle glimmered in the sunlight and there was a family crest on it, too.

It was a miracle Kurt hadn’t been robbed off it yet.

‘So what, pray tell, is a rookie like yourself doing with a sword like this?’ Blaine murmured. He ran his finger along the outer edge of the sword and smiled thinly to himself when he drew blood without applying too much pressure. It was perfect.

‘My father is a blacksmith, he made me this sword when he found out I was being forced to join the army.’ There was a defiant tone seeping into his voice but it only amused Blaine further. They were running out of men, their army was thinning out – it didn’t surprise him that Kurt hadn’t joined the army on his own validation. A lot of farmer’s boys got plucked away from their families even if Blaine didn’t particularly like that prospect. Quantity wasn’t better than quality, after all, and making these kids fight was like sending off lambs to slaughter.

‘Your father is a gifted man, Kurt,’ he mused truthfully . ‘Something tells me you don’t fashion swords, however.’

Kurt snorted as if it should be obvious, and then gasped and squared his shoulders like he had reminded just how different in stature the two of them were.

‘I’m sorry for my indecency, sir,’ Kurt mumbled. It didn’t fit him. Kurt wasn’t meant to grovel at Blaine’s feet, any fool could see that Kurt was meant for greater things. He didn’t  _belong_ here, and he sure as hell didn’t deserve to die on the battlefield.

Such a pity things couldn’t be different.

‘It’s just that swords are used to kill, and I have an aversion to everything that can be used to harm another person,’ Kurt added, his words strained, his eyes lowered like he expected Blaine to hit him. It somehow saddened Blaine to think that Kurt suspected such things of him.

Blaine released a soft acknowledging noise, handing Kurt’s sword back to him and standing behind Kurt to guide him into a defensive stance. Barely anyone was watching – the distance was too great between them and the rest of the soldiers who were sparring with each other, and they were shielded by the trees. The only one who was there to witness their conversation was Blaine’s horse.

Blaine stood a bit closer to Kurt than he should, taking pleasure out of the way Kurt’s legs automatically spread for him when he merely nudged Kurt’s ankle with his foot, Blaine’s fingers ghosting over Kurt’s sides. He could feel strong, developing muscles under his shirt. Kurt had potential. That much was obvious.

Kurt shuddered when Blaine’s hands settled on his hips, the both of them aware of the fact that Blaine wasn’t just helping Kurt anymore and that the situation was gradually becoming something more meaningful, something darker.

Blaine was feeling Kurt up, and Kurt accepted it completely. He wasn’t even attempting to push Blaine away.

‘I think you’re wrong there, titleless-Kurt,’ Blaine breathed. Kurt smelt delicious, clean. He didn’t smell of hard labor at all, he didn’t smell like a  _soldier._ ‘I think they’re wonderful tools to help us protect and claim what is rightfully ours.’

‘Claim what is ours?’ Kurt parroted, whimpering when Blaine leaned in even closer. His pelvis was pressed snugly against Kurt’s bum now. The cool feel of his metal harness was seeping through the thin cotton of Kurt’s clothing.

‘Ours,’ Blaine agreed. There were goosebumps rising on Kurt’s skin, just one of the little, vulnerable things about Kurt’s body that sparked desire in Blaine.

He wanted Kurt and that was shocking, but even more so was Blaine’s determination to have him too.

Blaine’s hands slid back up Kurt’s body, down his arms until he was gripping Kurt’s wrists and he slowly started moving Kurt until Kurt properly swung his sword a couple of times with Blaine’s guidance. Much better. Kurt was a quick learner.

‘And it’s time you’d learn that we’re not bad for taking away what threatens us.’

That’s something Blaine tells himself every night before he goes to sleep in order to keep the nightmares away. As the years had passed, he had come to believe his own lie too.

‘Even if they’re innocent lives, sir?’ Kurt asked. He wasn’t judging Blaine, however. It was a simple question that made Blaine pause. Kurt’s sword hung uselessly in the air before Blaine hummed and pressed his nose into Kurt’s hair just to catch that lingering scent of soap. He smelt as sweet as he looked.

‘Nobody’s innocent. Not even pretty things like yourself.’

Kurt halted, his hands tightening on the handle of his sword. He turned his head to look at Blaine.

‘And what’s your sin, sir Blaine?’ he asked. His voice had adapted something breathless and low, his eyes darker than they were before. Blaine’s eyes flicked to Kurt’s lips as he wondered if Kurt tasted as delicious as he smelt and looked.

‘Why don’t you come to my manor and I’ll show you?’

Kurt nervously licked his lips and Blaine was too aware of that movement. There was heat coiling in his veins already, his heart beating lazily in his chest. He  _desired_ Kurt. He wanted to own Kurt, make him his own. Teach him everything no one else ever would.

‘O-okay,’ Kurt agreed. 

Yeah, Blaine was going to enjoy this one.


End file.
